He groaned. “I’m sorry about that. I should have been paying closer attention. You could have said something—stopped me anytime.”
“That was the least romantic sexual encounter I’ve ever had.” She sniffed. “And now you won’t even let me play with your nipple rings.”
“Was it really that bad?” he asked, his voice skeptical. “You had a lot of orgasms for a girl who was unhappy with the service.”
“Only three. Maybe about a million mental ones though.”
He spread a big hand over her back, between her shoulder blades, then slid it down her back to her ass, grabbed it appreciatively, then slid it back up again, starting a slow pattern. The high she was on melted into a pleasant buzz, like she’d had a few drinks. “You’re taking this much better than I would have expected for a vanilla girl.”
“It was . . .” She struggled to find a word that matched how she felt, but couldn’t think of anything much more complicated than a syllable. “Fun,” she finished lamely.
“Fun?” he asked, sounding like he couldn’t decide whether to be surprised, amused, or insulted.
“My brain is out of better words.”
He chuckled, and the sound made her toes curl. She burrowed against him, more relaxed and content than she could ever remember being. For the first time in months, her mind felt quiet and the tension she hadn’t realized her body was carrying had fallen away.
“You’re okay though? Sometimes with kink, people have complicated feelings afterward. If you start feeling upset or depressed, I’d like you to tell me, okay? It’s my job to make sure you’re all right.”
She smiled even though he probably couldn’t see it. “For how long? An hour? Two? Five days? What if I call you three years from now and complain that the memory of you tying me to a tree tonight is making me really need a sandwich?”
There was a weird growling noise in his chest. He pushed himself upright, and pulled her belly down across his lap. The blanket had fallen away, and she felt vulnerable and a little ridiculous in this position. He rubbed his hand over her bare bottom, and she buried her face in the blanket, waiting for him to spank her. She trembled with anticipation, and when nothing happened she looked back over her shoulder at him.
“If you’re calling me three years from now to tell me to get you a sandwich, I’d assume this was really what you were hoping for?”
“What? A lumpy bed?” she shot back, amazed at how sassy she’d sounded.
His eyes narrowed and she stifled a nervous giggle.
“You have a very spankable ass,” he remarked, drawing shivery trails over the body part in question. “And now it’s covered in welts and bite marks. It’s giving me all sorts of bad ideas. Then there’s the fact that you seemed to enjoy having me play with you here.” He traced down the cleft, brushing over her still hypersensitive asshole and making her squeal. “You took one finger without complaining. I wonder if you’d like two? After two, who knows? Three? My cock?”
“Suddenly, I’m feeling really tired,” she blurted.
His chuckle was ominous. “Maybe I’m not.” A stinging slap landed on one of the globes of her ass, and she struggled to get away, knowing all she had to do was say “red,” but she didn’t really want him to let her go. In fact, she was starting to become obsessed with his dominance. Obligingly, he held her down with a hand on her lower back. “Where do you think you’re going, Ophelia?”
“To the tent to get some sleep!”
Another swat landed, and she gasped. Having him manhandle and spank her was making her hot all over again.
“Don’t worry that pretty head of yours. I won’t fuck your ass tonight.” Smack, smack, smack. The rhythm of his hand connecting with her flesh was making her feel spacey. She squirmed in his lap, more than a little aware of the erection pressed against her hip. “I don’t do anal on the first date. Call me old-fashioned.”
Jeez. That was a relief, but did that mean he expected to fuck her ass tomorrow? A visual of him pushing her to the ground, covering her body with his own, and coaxing her asshole into taking his big, hard cock, made her shut her eyes in horrified arousal. She didn’t want that. She’d safeword. Wouldn’t she?
He rubbed his hand over her stinging skin, soothing it, and just when she thought he’d let her up he resumed the spanking. It was less painful than the belt, but far more personal, especially in this position.
“But I don’t understand,” she whimpered, unable to help it. Each swat he landed made her clit throb harder. “What did I do?”
“I was talking to you about something serious, and you made it into a joke,” he said with mild reproof.
Being glib when he’d been telling her something he obviously felt was important hadn’t been very polite. The only thing she could blame it on was the endorphins.
“A spanking seems like a logical consequence.”
A logical consequence? Maybe she’d been out of line, but was she a six-year-old? “I don’t need to be spanked.” She could feel herself impatiently shoving her ass up to meet his next blow even as she protested. “I’m not a child!”
“You keep pretending you’re a good girl, Ophelia.” Smack. The sting was delicious and before there’d been much delay she was already looking for another one. “But deep down you know that you’re bad.” Smack. “You need to be punished, don’t you?”
Oh god. He had to stop talking before his words alone made her come.